


When the Losers need Leverage

by BairnSidhe



Category: Leverage, The Losers - All Media Types
Genre: Gen, M/M, Now with cameos from, Psych - Freeform, The Librarians - Freeform, Vance has too much fun with attack choppers full of pissed off 19 year olds, accidental feelings reveal, scorpion
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-03-24
Updated: 2016-03-31
Packaged: 2018-03-19 11:45:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,326
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3608868
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BairnSidhe/pseuds/BairnSidhe
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Aisha knows the female hitter from The Two Live Crew Job, who hooks her up with the Leverage Crew.  </p><p>Losers meet Leverage</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

“So Aisha knows a guy…”

Carlos Alverez was a decently smart man.  Not like his Jake, not that Jake knew he thought of him as ‘his Jake’, but smart enough to know that if Clay walked in the room with an opener like that, blood would be shed soon.

“Or rather, Aisha knows a woman who met a guy and they exchanged numbers and at any rate, he’s got a crew going out in Portland and they said they’d be down with helping us take out Max.  Apparently it’s what they do.”

“Exactly how far are we trusting Aisha’s friend of a friend?”  Pooch asked, not looking up from the feeds Jensen got him of Jolene and Pooch Jr.  “Excuse me, acquaintance of an acquaintance.”

“Yeah, boss, I don’t know about this.  Gimme a few days to dig up some intel.” Jensen used his startlingly effective puppy eyes on their leader.

“Fine.  Name’s Elliot Spencer.  The crew is a company called Leverage Inc.  You have three days to find minefields, then we go to Portland.”

Cougar went back to stripping down his least favorite rifle to fix the annoyingly long time it took for the second bullet to snap into proper position.  He let Jensen’s chatter sooth the demons in his head as he filed at metal with a jewelry file.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

Meanwhile, in the back of a popular Portland brewpub, Hardison was throwing his hands in the air.

“Dead.  D. E. A. D.  I don’t know what you want me to say, baby.  The clients Elliot’s brought in are dead, deceased, are no more.  This is an ex SpecOps team.  They got blown outa the sky by a missile.”

“Creepy.”  Parker threw a pretzel at Elliot’s head.  “So are you the Ghost Whisperer now?”

“No!  And I don’t know that it’s Clay’s team; that may have been a cover story.  Aisha al-Fadhil isn’t exactly a woman you cross examine.”

“Did you have sex?”

“NO!  Parker, Jesus.  You can’t just ask a guy that!  And I’m pretty sure Aisha eats the men she mates with.  At least kills them.”

“You do realize your go-between is wanted in 37 countries for smuggling, murder, general shit involving bombs, terrorism, etc.?”

“I never said she was a nice lady, I said she had a loose string in a CIA cover-up that resulted in multiple fatalities.”

“So when are the Zombie SpecOps unit getting here?” Parker hopped off the counter.

“Four days.”

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

“Guys, we’ve been hacked.”  Not a sentence Hardison ever expected to say.

“Who?” Parker, his rock, calm and steady as his heart rate went through the roof.  “CIA, FBI, that smelly Chaos guy?”

“Girl, you wound me, as if Chaos could ever get through my security.  No, it’s a new player, well, relatively new.  Came on the scene two years ago, but he’s good.  I almost missed it, and he disabled the search-and-destroy protocol that should have nuked his system.  NSA has a profile on him, which we now have.  No known name, no known address, bounces his feeds all over the globe.  Tends to take large quantities of money from the same kind of people we target and then he’s gone.”

“What name did they give him?”

“What?”

“Law enforcement gives nicknames to the guys they have no real data on.  I’m the Ghost in like three languages, The Black Cat in Spain, and for some reason I’m Krampus in Germany.”

“See, you’re sharing, I like this.”

“Me too, now what’s his nickname.”

“Er.  Petunia?”

“Ok.”

“Kinda a sissy name for a hacker with that much ability,” said Elliot.  “I mean, he got through us.”

“He tends to send emails to his victims saying ‘Go Petunias’.  No origin point, just a random email to let you know your ass is now broke.”

“What’d he take?” Elliot asked.

“Our past years’ worth of files.”  There was a breath of ‘oh shit’ shared between Elliot and Parker.  “And our names.”

“Are we running?” Parker asked.  “I like Portland.”

“I just got the brewpub’s menu balanced, dammit Hardison!”

“I don’t want to run either, man, I have a set up here where I can deal with this, I just need time.”

“One more job, then we decide.  The Zombie SpecOps team is coming in a few minutes.”

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

“Jensen, hurry up!”

“Sorry boss, had to change.”  His faded tee-shirt from Bolivia had been replaced and this one was an even more eye-searing shade of pink, with the familiar logo of the old one.  “I made a boo-boo and I want to be upfront about it.  Honesty is the best policy and all.”  Then he started rambling about watchdogs and cookie crumbs and the new movie coming out and how hot the leads were.

“Jensen!”

“Yeah boss?”

“Did your,” Clay ground his teeth.  He was a grown ass man he was not saying the word ‘boo-boo’. “Mistake, do anything that might make them shoot us?”

“Not if we don’t shoot first.  Elliot Spencer doesn’t like guns, Alec Hardison can’t use them, and Parker prefers a Taser.  Also, forgot to note in the official briefing, Parker has a rep for being crazy, but she’s taken, and you’re taken, and please don’t get us all killed.”

“Duly noted, now get your ass in that brewpub.”

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

“Franklin Clay, former Lieutenant Colonel with the US Army until what shall be referred to as the Bolivia Incident, presumed dead.” Clay stuck a hand out to the rough looking man in a plaid flannel shirt.

“Elliot Spencer, former Army Ranger, retrieval specialist.”

The two men sized each other up and Jensen darted around Clay to the openly staring black man.

“Jake Jensen, or JJ, or just Jensen.”

“You ASSHOLE!”

Instantly Cougar was between the two men and his hand rested easily on the hilt of a knife holstered on his belt.

“Carino, usually it takes longer than this to get people yelling at you.”

“I kinda hacked their systems.  Just a little.”

“Si.”

“Cougs, my man, how would you feel if someone slightly adjusted everything in your rifle case?  Not much, just enough to show someone had gone through it?”

“Ah.”  He turned to the black man, still visibly seething.  “Do not kill him, por favor?”

A slim blonde woman wrapped an arm around the man’s waist.  “Does this mean we don’t have to move?”

“Yeah, no totally, you guys stay put, all that stuff was for one time viewing to brief the team, and it’s destroyed now.  I had Cougs put a clip in the hard drive.  I threw it and he shot it out of the sky; it was awesome.”

“Did you know that the NSA calls you Petunia?”

“Really?  That’s awesome!  It’s my niece’s soccer team, they’ve made finals the last two years, shoe in again this year.”

“Yo, man, I think we may have just induced the apocalypse by introducing him to Parker.”

“Si.”


	2. Let's go steal the CIA

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The problem with putting the Losers and Leverage crews together is combined, they know everybody and nobody likes a corrupt CIA that much.
> 
> Well, that's a problem for Max, anyway.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one's for all the people who loved this. Normally I name the people who kudo'd and commented, but this, you guys blew me away with the love for my cracky little oneshot. If you loved it then, this is for you, especially the tumblr anon, you know who you are. So here it is, The Losers Job.

A rundown of Max’s involvement in Bolivia and then the LA explosion was given, Hardison got hacking, and even though he still held a bit of a grudge, he let Jensen use the Brewpub’s set up to do his own.

“Hey man, did you find that fingerprint on the Venezuelan Consulate bombing in Croatia?” asked Hardison.

“Yes.  It’s obviously a Max-related job I got footage of Wade and a dude who looks like Wil Wheaton with bad facial hair.”

“That’s Chaos, dumbfuck.”

“Hey!”

“Not you, him.  We sent him to prison a few times.  He’s the _worst_.”

“Nope, have to disagree; the worst is Meerungeheuer out of Germany.  Totally blew our Myanmar op and pinned a crime technically committed by Roque on some random bruiser.”

“Wait, what?”

“It’s not like you didn’t know I have a half-mil bounty there Hardison,” Elliot called from where he and Aisha were discussing knife techniques. “I just didn’t do one of the things the bounty is for.”

“If it helps any, Cougie-bear shot the guy who did and now that I’m dead I can try to undo the bounty.  It's not illegal if you're dead.”

“Hardison couldn’t,” Parker pointed out.  “He tried, but the system is old or something.”

“I’d need terminal access and I don’t want to go to Myanmar.  Besides even though the terminal system is old the security on it is top grade, bleeding edge.”

“I’ll call Zeke.  He claims he 'owes' me and he can get past _beyond bleeding_.”

“Zeke?” “Ezekiel Jones?” asked Parker and Elliot together.

“Second best thief in the world, Ezekiel Jones,” said Parker, “you know him?  And how do you know him Elliot?”

“I met him on a chat board, I’m the one who told him to backdoor retinal scanners so now he ‘owes’ me,” explained Jenson with finger quotes.

“He’s running with my twin these days and I don’t know him beyond checking up on Jakey.  Who probably thinks I’m dead, because I changed my name when I ran with Moreau and he'd left the only time I went back.”

“You have a twin?” Hardison asked, sounding betrayed.

“I also have a cousin in Santa Barbra, so?”

“Anyway, favor asked for and granted.  He must have already been close he says your bounty will be off the books in five.  Minutes, not hours,  God how close was he?”

Cougar smiled at Jake’s enthusiastic generosity.  In others it would be a calculated move, in Jake it was like breathing.

<^>

“So, in further research we seem to have found that the rot that is Max goes kinda deep.  And by kinda deep I mean the Mariana Trench looks like a kiddie pool,” said Hardison to the group in front of the screens displaying decades of horror.

“After all this and killing Max won’t even do jack,” complained Pooch.

“I don’t kill people anymore,” said Elliot defensively.

“Nobody’s killing anybody,” soothed Hardison.  “We’re thieves.  The best thieves.  We’re gonna do what we always do.  Steal.

“Let’s go steal the CIA,” chirped Parker.

“The hell?  How do you steal a government agency?” demanded Clay.

“They did it before,” commented Aisha.

“No, we stole a country,” corrected Parker.

“San Lorenzo counts as several government agencies, but I was referring to the FBI.”

“Oh that.  McSweeten just got us real credentials because he thought I missed the memo to update.  It wasn’t theft, it was presents.”

“Still, we could use those, and the Colonel if Elliot can call him in,” said Hardison.

“Ok, so here’s what we do,” said Parker in full mastermind mode.  It was the second hottest thing Parker ever did in Hardison’s eyes.

<^>

“Eliot’s good at hand to hand,” said Cougar watching the fight on the screens.

“Aisha ain’t half bad at it herself,” Hardison acknowledged as Aisha bit the man’s arm.  “Is Jensen getting literally anything out of this other than a fear-boner?  And a few bruises,” he added as a goon full body flipped Jake into a wall.

“Si.  Jake can pick pockets.  He has all the man’s possessions now.”

“Including rotating security key, wallet, and his phone with all his passwords.  O.  M.  G!  His lock code is his birthday, that’s adorable.”

<^>

“You spotted Jensen and al-Fadhil in Portland? Go kill them,” Max ordered into cell phone.  “What do you mean you _tried_?”  He placed his gloved hand over his face.  “Good lord you got your ass handed to you by a _cook_?  Useless.”

<^>

“So you want me to ask my twin to ask your friend to help us hack Max?”

“Or we could call that Chaos dude… Have to spring him first, but…”

“I’ll call Jake.  My Jake, not yours.”

A few hours later Elliot reappeared with a slight smile.

 “So my twin also has a friend who’s some kinda crazy number genius, and she’s offered to help.  Ezekiel said it was out of his ‘zone’ or something.  Also if I have to do the reunion thing, so do you.”

“What…”

“Your cousin and his crew down in LA, Clay,” Elliot said.  "You don't think your hacker's the only one who does background checks do you?"

“Damn. I forget about Cabe.  I’ll call him.”

<^>

“What do you mean, quadripartite system hack?  The only hacker good enough is Jake Jensen and he’s the only hacker Clay’s people have.”  Obviously all of the IT hired after the last purge were hair-trigger pessimists.  “I don’t care what they _may_ have gotten their hands on, get the Domino running again.”

<^>

“Guys, good work, we now know where Max is hiding bio-weapons on US soil.  Which is terrifying, let me say.  Also for the record Parker, no repeats of the Spanish Flu fiasco, girl you nearly died and I can’t take that.”

“You and I can go in with our FBI cred from McSweeten, right? Since American soil is Fed turf.  Where are we going specifically, any way?”

“Santa Barbra, of all places,” said Elliot.  "Maybe I should call Shawn.”

“Yesss, theoretically we could, but we need a warrant and all the judges high enough to authorize a raid on a CIA hold-out are in Max’s boss’s pockets.”

“Voila, a Federal warrant from the Honorable Harry T. Stone.”

“You forged a warrant from the judge on Night Court?” asked Elliot.

“A _Federal_ warrant.  I decided 31 years earned him a promotion.”

“You are crazy, man,” the hitter said with admiration.

“He is Jensen,” smirked Cougar.

<^>

“What do you mean, the FBI raided the warehouse?” screeched Max.

“I mean two police officers, three agents, and a ‘psychic consultant’ showed up with a Federal warrant.  I couldn’t keep them out, but the bombs are well hidden.”

“Good.”

<^>

“Are you sure you don’t want to be in there with them?  I know I itch when Parker and Hardison do this crap.”

“Jake can handle himself,” stated Cougar.  That didn’t change the fact that lack of nest options did make him twitch.  It felt wrong watching from the van with no rifle.

“But he’s…”

“Mi carino Jake can take your Hardison,” Cougar said.  “SpecOps, remember.”

“ _Your_ Jake?”  After a pregnant pause, “You know DADT got repealed, right?”

“Si.  What we want and what we get, though…”

“You want him.”  It wasn’t a question.

“Tell him and die.”

“Cougs, you are on an open channel.  I already heard it.  Love you too.  And now I hafta go be an idiot to get the guy away from a wall Shawn says is fishy.  I don’t think he means the singing bass on the wall, either, although I’ve never trusted anyone who owned a singing bass, except Roque and we know how that ended.”

<^>

“What do you mean, the FBI found them?”

“The consultant spotted the trap panel, Operation Falling Domino is dead.”

“Then so are you,” Max quipped as he pulled the trigger

<^>

“Vance, how do you feel about arresting a home-grown terrorist?”

“Dammit Spencer.”

“Now you know how I feel, Elliot,” Hardison said in the comm.

“Who d’ya think I got it from,” muttered Elliot.  “You get to resurrect fallen war heroes falsely accused of unauthorized wetwork.”

“Clay’s with you, ain’t he.”

“Heya Mikey,” said Clay as he entered the room.  “How’d you know?”

“The day one little missile takes out a Loser, let alone all five of you, is the day Hell sells Ben and Jerry’s ice cream.  How’s Roque?”

“Eating ice-cream.”

“Sorry.  Never figured that’d happen.”

“Never figured it would be a shot Alvarez had to take, but you know he doesn’t miss.  Had it coming though, he sold us out.”

“Damn shame.  I take it this is a revenge thing?  I’m with you.”

<^>

“I don’t understand.  A war crimes tribunal?  I’m a CIA operative.”

“Yup.  Son, you done fucked up.  You fucked up bad.  You gonna be coming quietly?”

“Hell no.  Damien, deal with it!” Max yelled as he ran.

“Well, yet again we reach that appointed hour, Eliot.  Drop ‘em.”

<^>

“I can help you,” said the British lady.

“How?” asked Max, desperation washing over him.

“Leverage, of the right kind.  Do you have anything on your bosses?  Some kind of insurance?”

“Yes, it’s all on the drive.”

“This whole mess will be done with by tomorrow night,” she reassured as she took it from his hand.

<^>

Sure enough, that next night saw Max, his twin, their bosses and fifty two operatives on death row for war crimes and terrorism.

“Max, you have a visitor,” said the guard briskly as he pulled Max out of his cell and into a bare room.

“You…”

“Nice to see you too, Max,” said newly instated CIA SpecOps Division Head Franklin Clay.  His badge was visible.  “Quartermaster and Motor pool Commander Porteous wanted me to thank you for the _lovely_ yellow stretch Hummer you gave us in LA, CovertOps Division Head al-Fadhil wanted me to tell you your paperwork’s, and I’m quoting here, ‘a fucking mess’, CyberOps Division Head Jenson wanted me to pass on the fact that his niece’s soccer team just won regionals and are headed to nationals, and his husband had a message too, but I had to have him write it because he was speaking too quickly.”  The note was placed so Max could read it without lifting the hands cuffed to the table.

_Usted mató a los niños y le dijo al mundo que era yo. Pedazo de mierda, estrangulación en el pene de un burro. Mi madre y hermanas pensaron que morí un monstruo. Mi hermano tiene una fractura en la nariz porque se parece a mí. Mi abuela casi se muere sin saber la verdad. Hay un infierno especial para usted._

“I just wanted you to know that we’ll be doing your jobs now.  Only we’ll do them right.  And after I leave this prison I don’t think I’ll dwell much on you.  I’ll be too busy helping people like the CIA always should have.  The others probably won’t cry much either.  But I don’t doubt you’ll spend the rest of your exceptionally short life thinking about us.  You never should have made that move in Bolivia, or we’d never have met the people that made this possible.”


	3. Care and Keeping of Hackers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jensen has had it to here with office work, and goes to visit Parker.
> 
> Elliot has reservations about his attire and the idea Hardison might copy him.
> 
> Cougar is just glad someone is taking care of his Carino.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For the Nonny on Tumblr.
> 
>  
> 
> Please note that any other ideas for this bizarre cross-over are welcomed.

“Parker?” Elliot asked as he walked into the kitchen.

“Yeah, Elliot?” she called from the duct she liked to lay in to watch him cook.

“Why is the CIA’s CyberOps Division Head in our back room wearing only Hawkeye boxers and a pirate hat?”

“Jake called and said offices are evil, and I said ‘duh’, and he asked if he could come over to do his job where nobody says mean things about his process.  The process involves minimal clothing that somehow connects to his work.  He’s trying to tie an Olympic archer to a Somali pirate-slash-drug runner.”

“Well, if it works…  Does Cougar know he’s here?”

“I didn’t ask.”

“I’ll call him.”

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

“Hey Mr. Alvarez-Jensen, this is Elliot.”

“Si.  Jake designed our caller ID.”

“He’s in my back room right now.  In boxers and a pirate hat.  Just boxers and a pirate hat.”  A muffled sound on the other end interrupted, and Cougar smiled as he got half a conversation.  “It’s not dirty, how could that be…Parker I don’t need to know about what you and Hardison did one time in Bali.  I’m not going to tell him we aren’t stealing his husband he knows that already.  Of course we _could_ in theory, but we aren’t going to.  No.  Parker, don’t you dare.”  A deep sigh.  “I’ve got to go keep her from making Hardison hack in his underwear.  We’ve got your guy and will keep him fed and watered until he’s willing to put on pants and go home.”

“Muchas gracias.  Make sure he eats a vegetable.  Tell him Beth will _know_ and not eat hers.”

“I’ll get him real food.  I’ve had my hacker for close to a decade, I know the signs.”  Another muffled thump.  “Dammit Hardison!”

Cougar smiled as he hung up.  It was good his Jake had friends who were just as crazy as he was.  It was also good Elliot Spencer could do what Cougar did for Jake.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm at bairnsidhe.tumblr.com


End file.
